A Journey Unwanted N Chapter 192 - 185: My Hatred III

Chapter 192: Chapter 185: My Hatred III

[Zephyria]

[Outskirts: Solarith]

Stretching endlessly beneath the blazing sun, the Vast Expanse of Solarith unfolds in golden dunes, jagged cliffs, and ancient ruins. The desert was alive, not barren—an ocean of ochre and crimson, with shifting dunes that seed to breathe, reforming themselves with every gust of the wind.

Scattered throughout this grand desert were Zephyria cultural landmarks, each standing as a symbol of the faith of those who thrived here. So were half-buried beneath the shifting sands, while others rose into the sky.

The Obsidian Pillars of Harak’Tul – Towering columns of black volcanic glass rose from the sands like spears thrust from the earth. Each pillar was inscribed with detailed spiraling glyphs that shimred faintly, believed to be ssages left by the Gods.

The Shattered Steps of Qil’Saraan – A vast stone staircase carved into the side of a plateau, now fragnted and worn by ti. Legend holds that ascending the steps leads to visions of past lives and glimpses of future destinies. At the summit, a colossal sundial, its bronze edges still gleaming, tracks not just hours but the passage of entire epochs.

The Eternal Oasis of Shai-Ren – A sanctuary hidden within a labyrinth of sandstone canyons. Verdant palm trees swayed lazily around crystalline waters, and marble pavilions with latticework screens offered shade to travelers. Statues of the Goddess Shai-Ren, sculpted from white quartz with golden eyes, watched eternally over the oasis, said to bless those who sought refuge with fortune.

The Singing Dunes of Vaar’Mir – Rolling waves of fine, red sand that produced a lody when the wind brushed over them. The sound was said to be the lant of an God imprisoned beneath the dunes, and pilgrims often journeyed here to leave offerings at the base of the dunes—small carved effigies of birds and wind spirits crafted from desert glass.

The Bone Spire of D??m-Khalath – A jagged tower of petrified dragon bones, spiraling into the sky in defiance of ti.

Dotting the landscape as well were massive statues, sculpted with exquisite detail and often half-buried by the relentless sands. Each effigy embodied a God or Goddess.

Ahn-Tor, the Guardian of Horizons – A colossus with the body of a man and the head of a falcon, its wings spread wide as if shielding the desert from invisible forces. Carved from a single slab of golden sandstone, it gazed eternally westward, where the sun sets, guiding lost travelers with its stare.

Vath’Zorah, the Weaver of Storms – A titanic figure of a man wrapped in flowing robes. His outstretched hands held a delicate lattice of wind-carved stone.

Kor-Tuun, the Serpent of the Dunes – A sinuous, scaled statue of an imnse sand serpent, its head crowned with a diadem of eralds now dull with age. Said to be the God of secrets and whispers, legend held that when the winds shifted just right, one could hear prophecies spoken from the serpent’s stone maw.

Ira-Dan, the Celestial Judge – A fearso figure seated upon an enormous throne carved into the side of a mountain. His gaze was stern, his hands resting upon massive scales that once, it was said, weighed the souls of the living and the dead.

Liriana, the Eternal Wanderer – A statue of a hooded figure draped in a flowing cloak, positioned as if forever striding forward. Her face remained obscured, and no two travelers claid to see her in the sa place twice. Stories abounded that she moved through the desert at night, guiding the worthy and misleading the wicked.

It made the sleek white carriage adorned in gold stand out all the more, two large bird-like white-feathered Astrothians pulling obediently and without issue through the heavy sand. From within the comfortable space, Alyssia stared out of the windows with awe and child-like glee. "Whoa! So many statues! Those stairs are huge! And those structures look so weird!" She exclaid with wonder.

Lyra chuckled at her radiant expression, seated beside the princess she spoke, "Zephyria is ho to many impressive landmarks. The Gods—it was said the Gods had battled here with their adversaries many years ago. Those landmarks being what was left of the Gods’ Divine power, interesting stuff, would you not say, Dante?" She cast a gaze at the strong mortal, who sat across from them, arms folded.

Dante gave a grunt of acknowledgnt but said nothing. Though it alerted Alyssia and reminded her that he was still, in fact, here despite his silence. She hastily tore her gaze away from the window and repositioned herself to sit more gracefully, "Hm, yes, it is an interesting sight, I suppose." Her tone now dignified as she cleared her throat.

"Co now, no need to act all dignified, princess. Dante knows the real you," Lyra teased, nudging the girl with her elbow.

"I-I’m not sure what you’re talking about. I’m not acting at all," she stamred out, not at all convincing.

"Be at ease, princess," Dante spoke up, "rely think of

as another comrade you can be yourself around." Though his tone was as blank as ever, emphasized more so with his lifeless mask, his voice was genuine.

"A-ahem, well if you insist," Alyssia refused to et his eyes, content on idly playing with a strand of her hair. "A-anyway, Lyra, how long till we reach the capital of Zephyria?" She sought to divert the topic with haste.

"We’ve only traversed the outskirts here for about an hour, give or take. It will take quite a while before we reach it. I would have loved to rely evoke teleportation magic, but I’ve never been here before. And besides, we would have missed all the sights," Lyra remarked.

"Hmph, hardly a sacrifice," Alyssia huffed, Lyra quirked up a brow.

"Weren’t you gushing like a child re monts ago at these foreign landscapes and statues?" Lyra reminded, cupping her chin thoughtfully.

"I was not gushing like a child!" The princess defended.

Lyra turned to Dante with a smirk, "You saw right, Dante?"

"What—" A tinge of red spread on Alyssia’s face as Dante got involved, "You don’t need to answer this hag, she’s just seeing things."

"I was indeed a witness to the princess’s excitent."

"Gah!"

Lyra chuckled, "Your face is all red, Alyssia~"

"S-shut up! The sights were just impressive, alright!" The princess huffed, and her signature pout adorned her face as she glared out the window. Lyra smiled at her childishness; it was always nice to witness. The princess was quite young, and given her position, normality was sothing she could not experience. That and a mother’s love. Alyssia’s childhood was not an easy one despite her status. A mother who died before her very eyes during Verdantis’s war against the demons.

Alyssia was but a child, her mother having used her very body to preserve her life. It scarred the girl deeply; such wounds were not easily forgotten. She recalled when she first encountered the princess, so full of rage the young girl was, so sad and pitiful.

Lyra had walked the world known as Aethel for far too long; she could not keep count of the years that had passed by. The people she t, the bonds she had made, all withered eventually, and then there was Alyssia. A brash, haughty, and endearing young lady, Lyra watched her pouting face.

"Co now, Alyssia, there’s no sha in it, dear," she gently patted the princess’s head, causing the younger girl to huff but she did not pull away. Lyra’s touch was gentle and comforting, not that Alyssia would ever admit that.

"I want sweets as forgiveness," she quietly demanded.

"Alright, alright. Zephyria’s capital should have many delicacies. I’ll be sure to spoil you, Alyssia," Lyra promised, noting the endearing way the princess’s expression lit up, "Though with how many I will have to buy, we’ll need soone strong to carry it all, no?" Their gazes turned to the silent Dante; he contemplated heaving a sigh but decided against it.

"Very well."

Alyssia and Lyra smiled, "Good—" The court mage cut herself off as suddenly an enormous shadow engulfed the carriage. Ti seed to slow down; Dante was already moving towards the princess, hefting her up into a bridal carry much to her embarrassnt before he leaped out the carriage window, shielding the girl from the broken glass. Seeing her secured, Lyra’s body vanished in an instance, her feet now touching down onto the sandy ground just as Dante landed beside her, princess in tow and oddly enough the two bird-like Astrothians along with him.

"You saved those two as well?" Lyra questioned, a raised brow directed at Alyssia.

"W-what the Dodos are cute! I didn’t just wanna leave them," Alyssia defended as Dante gently sat her down. "But what are those things?" She pointed at the sources of the large shadows.

They were enormous. No, calling them enormous would not do them justice. They were mountains given form—golems of sand and stone, their rugged exteriors layered in sedint and hardened rock. Cracks and crevices laced their hulking bodies, yet there was no fragility in them; each movent of theirs akin to the shifting of tectonic plates.

Their eyes, hollow recesses radiating an eerie blue glow, pulsed with unfathomable mana. Along their craggy bodies, runic sigils—vast and sprawling—etched themselves in glowing patterns across their towering forms, pulsating with mana.

"Golems," Lyra answered, narrowing her eyes as the behemoths slowly approached, the ground shaking.

"Whoa, they’re fueled by soone’s mana; those runes enhance them and allow for soone to control their every move," Alyssia expertly noted, "Who has such absurd mana?"

"Who indeed," Dante murmured, casting a glance at Lyra. A silent understanding passed through them as the Dodos behind them ran off at the approaching threat. "Usually cities in Zephyria possess golems of this magnitude. Especially the capital; soone may have breached them and accessed their golems."

"Yet they’re attacking us," Lyra mused as the ground shook violently under the twin golems’ thunderous steps, "Hm, this bodes ill. Dante, if you will."

He nodded his head; a flourish of his gauntleted hand caused a burst of gold to crackle to life. The light took the shape of his sword before dying down. The desert stood still for but a mont. The wind held its breath. The distant sun shimred against the sky, casting elongated shadows across the rippling dunes. Then—

BOOM!

Dante moved.

The air shattered around him in a deafening explosion as he launched forward, his form disappearing in a streak of black and gold. In an instant, he broke the sound barrier—not once, twice, or even ten tis over; they numbered at least in the fifties. Each break sent ripples through the desert, concentric shockwaves blasting through the dunes and sending colossal plus of sand spiraling skyward. The force of his movent carved deep furrows into the earth, stretching in his wake like scars on the land. The pressure of his velocity sent cracks spiderwebbing across the distant cliffs, their surfaces groaning in protest at the power of his charge.

He closed the once-vast distance between himself and the towering golems in a single heartbeat, reappearing before the first with unnatural swiftness, his sleek black coat trailing in his wake.

The first colossal golem shifted in response. Slow movents turned to sudden violence as it raised its mammoth arm, its fist crackling with the luminous mana of the runes that pulsed across its titanic fra. The arm, thick as a fortress tower, ca crashing down with an earth-shaking roar, the air around it compressing into a visible wave of force that obliterated the terrain beneath it.

But Dante was already moving.

With a single, fluid motion, he leaped, propelling himself upward in a burst of speed. His boots barely grazed the golem’s descending arm before he was upon it, running up its length with absurd ease. The texture of the massive arm was rough and jagged, yet Dante’s footing was impossibly light, his every step expertly placed to avoid crumbling sections of rock and shifting sands. The force of the strike hitting the ground beneath him sent seismic tremors across the land, carving deep trenches and kicking up torrents of debris that spiraled outward in chaotic arcs.

His silver-white hair billowed wildly behind him as he sprinted toward the golem’s head, the gold filigree on his sword gleaming. The towering creature’s massive face, an impassive face. Its eyes—twin orbs of radiant blue mana—flared with power, but it was too late.

Dante’s sword flashed.

With a single, devastating swing, the blade cleaved through the air and through the golem’s head, parting stone and magic alike in an awe-inspiring display of destruction. The strike’s force erupted outward in an enormous shockwave, sending concentric ripples through the dunes. A blinding arc of force sliced the air, and for a fraction of a second, ti seed to freeze. The imnse weight of the golem’s head separated cleanly from its neck, the bisected halves crumbling apart as if in slow motion.

The force of the blow detonated outward, a chain reaction of destruction that sent vast chunks of the colossus tumbling to the earth below, each piece crashing with the weight of falling mountains.

Still suspended mid-air, Dante’s keen senses registered movent—the second golem, undeterred by the destruction of its companion, was already attacking. Its arm, as wide as a city gate and layered with jagged protrusions, barreled toward him, moving with deceptive speed for a creature of its magnitude.

Dante twisted.

With inhuman grace, he reached out and caught the still-falling remains of the first golem’s severed arm, his black gauntlet-clad fingers gripping the enormous slab of stone as though it were nothing more than a child’s toy. Muscles tensed beneath his coat, and in an instant, he hefted it with absurd ease. The sheer weight of the limb, easily thousands of tons, didn’t faze him in the slightest.

With a casual swing, he brought the massive severed arm down with devastating force, smashing it into the second golem’s advancing fra.

CRACK!

The sound of impact was deafening, the shockwave shattering the air itself. The second golem’s midsection crumpled beneath the blow, cracks spiderwebbing across its mighty form. A split-second later, its entire body collapsed inward, the force of the strike compressing it into a crumbling ruin of rock and dust. The once-imnse titan disintegrated, its rune-etched stones falling lifelessly to the desert floor in a chaotic display.

Dante descended gracefully, his movents effortless despite the magnitude of the destruction he had wrought. He landed as if stepping onto solid ground from a short drop, his heavy black boots pressing into the sands without so much as a sound. Falling debris rained around him, but he moved with fluidity, each piece missing him by re inches.

The desert was now eerily silent, save for the distant echoes of crumbling rock and the shifting winds. The once-towering golems, behemoths of the wastelands, lay in shattered ruin around him.

Dante stood motionless for a mont, his free hand reaching up to adjust the edge of his ornate mask, the golden patterns glinting faintly beneath the desert sun. With a flick of his wrist, his blade was dismissed in a burst of golden light. ("Hm, the mana that fueled these golems was potent...far too powerful as well. The average sorcerer would not be capable of this,") Turning on his heel, his body vanished in a burst of speed, reappearing between Lyra and Alyssia much to the latter’s fright as a shriek assaulted his ears.

"By the Gods....that was amazing!" Alyssia exclaid, invading his personal space. "You went ’swoosh’ with your sword and cleaved one in two with one move! And the second! Using the first’s arm to annihilate it, that was...aweso!" She childishly exclaid.

"Thank you for your words, princess," Dante rubbed the chin of his mask, "Though I must also comnd your quick thinking for saving the Dodos despite not knowing the situation. You were also quite calm; it bespeaks of your courage, princess."

"Haha~" She suddenly felt her face heat up as she noticed their close proximity, slowly backing away, "Y-you’ll make

blush with that kind of praise."

"You’re already blushing, though," Lyra cut in.

"I am not!"

"I’m quite sure you are."

"Your eyes play tricks on you, hag!"

"No, I don’t think so."

"Grrr, old prude!"

"Brat."

As half-hearted insults flew from their mouths, Dante felt a gaze piercing his body. Turning on his heel, he stared into the distance. A crumbling cliff, poised high, made the sight of a cloaked figure stand out all the more. Dante blinked, and suddenly the figure was nowhere to be seen.

Gone as if he were never there.